


There is so much darkness about her (She must be cursed)

by ariesjinx, SoEffinMajor



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Black Girl Magic, F/F, F/M, Good Peter, M/M, Multi, Omega Verse, P.O.C character, POV Original Character, Papa Peter, Papa Stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-19 18:39:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5977057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariesjinx/pseuds/ariesjinx, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoEffinMajor/pseuds/SoEffinMajor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Following are excerpted transcripts from the Sessions, and life of Tamsin Boyd. More comonly refered to as 'The Alpha'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Subject: The Alpha

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so it's my first try at something like this. Not all couples afromentioned will be getting a huge spot light and I'm sure things will change, but for now this is what it is. Warning. Triggers. Depression, Rape, Dysphoria, racial slurrs.

The following is a transcript of a random selection of recorded sessions conducted between Dr. Alan Deaton and Subject A1290. Also referred to as ‘The Alpha’ from ages 6-14

Subject: A1290  
Age: 6  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

Subject is smart and inquisitive; she shows early signs of advanced creativity. The only health risk she faces as of current are her violent Heats, which cause considerable biological strain to her undeveloped body. The mental and emotional toll are as of now undetermined.

[TAPE STARTS]

Deaton: Hello.  
ALPHA: Hi.  
Deaton: My Name is Dr. Deaton. What’s yours?  
ALPHA: Tamsin.  
Deaton: That’s a very pretty name. How old are you?  
ALPHA: [Subject shrugs]  
Deaton: That’s okay Tamsin. Can you tell me why you’re here?  
ALPHA: I’m sick.  
Deaton: Why do you say that?  
ALPHA: That’s what the Doctors say. It’s because I’mma Alpha.  
Deaton: Well, there are a lot of Alphas out there Tamsin. That’s doesn’t mean that you’re sick.  
ALPHA: Not girl and they don’t have stomachaches like I do.  
Deaton: Stomachaches? What kind?  
ALPHA: The kind that hurt, really bad.  
Deaton: Ok then. So is that why you’re here?  
ALPHA: I think so.  
Deaton: Do you like it here?  
ALPHA: [Subject indicates ‘no’]  
Deaton: Why not?  
ALPHA: I don’t have anyone to play with.  
Deaton: Ohhh . . . I’m sorry.  
ALPHA: And the Doctors make me take medicine and stick me with needles. It makes me feel wozzy and weird. I don’t like it.  
Deaton: They just want to help you.  
ALPHA: I know.

[TAPE ENDS]

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 6  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female  
Subject has shown signs of hormonal abonormalites. Alan Deaton recommend hormonal therapy be taken. In efforts not to pollute the subject, the request has been denied.

[TAPE STARTS]

Deaton: Hello Tamsin, how are you feeling?  
ALPHA: [Subject does not respond]  
Deaton: I heard you just got back from a visit to the Doctor?  
ALPHA: [Subject starts to cry]  
Deaton: Shhhh, now don’t cry. It’s okay.  
ALPHA: They hurt me. . . . They hurt me and I told them no but-but. . . .  
Deaton: Come on now, they're all gone now. Tamsin . . . can I hug you?  
ALPHA: [Subject signifies ‘yes']  
Deaton: Come on now. On my lap. It’s okay.  
ALPHA: [Subject climb onto Deaton lap and continues to cry]  
Deaton: They just want to help you. They have to figure out why your stomachaches happen. Then they can stop them.  
ALPHA: You promise?  
Deaton: I do. One day they’ll find out and you won’t have to stay here anymore. But you have to be strong.  
ALPHA: Okay . . .

[TAPE ENDS]

Subject: A1290  
Age: 9  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

Subject shows no improvement to Suppressant B and strong negative reaction to Suppressant C including: blood vomit, violent cramps, dramatic mood swings, and disorientation. Because of Subject's age we cannot induce Heat legally so research opportunities are limited. While the subject presented at an early age and has had only 4 Heats since presentation, she does not seem to have experience or urge to rut. Under the request of Alan Deaton we have put ALPHA in a public school setting, for a few hours of the day. This seems to have improved the subject's self-esteem. Subject however has had measured problems acclimating.

[TAPE STARTS]

Deaton: Tamsin . . . the Doctors tell me you’re not getting along well with the other kids.  
ALPHA: [Subject does not respond]  
Deaton: Tamsin, it took me a lot to convinces them to let you take classes with other kids. They won’t let you stay if you keep causing trouble.  
ALPHA: [Subject does not respond]  
Deaton: Fine, you can sit there with an attitude if you want. But if they take you out of the classes, I can’t do anything.  
ALPHA: They called me names.  
Deaton: Who?  
ALPHA: The other kids. They called me names.  
Deaton: What kind of names?  
ALPHA: Freak, Rutt-slut . . . It  
Deaton: I see. And what did you do?  
ALPHA: I stabbed him in the hand with a pencil. I’m not a . . . I’m not an ‘It’. Why would they call me that Deaton?  
Deaton: Of course you're not. Those kids are just . . . well . . . Tamsin. You're something new. Something . . . no one’s ever seen before. A Female-Alpha. A lot of people don’t understand.  
ALPHA: It’s not my fault that they're idiots.  
Deaton: No, no it is not. I’ll talk to the doctors and see if we can do something about getting you into another class. Would you like that?  
ALPHA: Thank you Deaton. Hey Deaton?  
Deaton: Yes Tamsin.  
ALPHA: You can call me Tammy. My mom use to call me that. It . . . it would be nice to hear it again.  
Deaton: Alright.

[TAPE ENDS]

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 9  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

Subject shows minor negative rejections to Suppressant D. Modification will be made and thoroughly tested.

[TAPE STARTS]

ALPHA: Hi Doctor Deaton.  
Deaton: Hello Tamsin. How are you feeling today?  
ALPHA: Tired.  
Deaton: How come?  
ALPHA: New medication.  
Deaton: I’m sorry.  
ALPHA: I can take it.  
Deaton: How are you liking the accelerated class?  
ALPHA: It’s cool. The kids are older; they don’t tease me as much.  
Deaton: That’s good. Your scores are impressive. Do you like the material?  
ALPHA: Yeah.  
Deaton: What’s your favorite subject.  
ALPHA: World Lit and History. Today we learned about Greek Mythology. How Kronos was so scared that his kids where gonna kill him, he swallowed them whole.  
Deaton: And in return when they escaped they killed him anyway. I’m familiar with that one.  
ALPHA: Worst. Dad. Ever.  
Deaton: The Greek’s weren’t known for their parentage.  
ALPHA: Zeus got lucky. His mom gave him up. The others had to live in Kronos. The Oldest Hes-hes-  
Deaton: Hestia.  
ALPHA: Yeah, she was in there so long she just became a walking flame.  
Deaton: Do you ever think about your father?  
ALPHA: Yeah I guess . . .  
Deaton: And what do you think about when you do.  
ALPHA: I . . . I don’t wanna talk about that.  
Deaton: That’s fine. Let’s go back to Greek Mythology? How does that story make you feel?  
ALPHA: I dunno . . . it’s like . . . they grew up in their Dad’s stomach. Never saw the outside world at all. Like they were trapped there, and then when they came out, they kill their dad and take over the entire universe. Like how?  
Deaton: You mean how’d they grow up to take on the world like that? I don’t know. What do you think?  
ALPHA: I don’t know. Maybe it’s just what they were made to do it. Like The Oracle told their dad they were gonna kill him and take over. He did everything to stop them and it still happened. Like . . . maybe they didn’t have a choice. They had to do it, it was hardwired in them from day one. It didn’t need to be taught.  
Deaton: That’s an interesting thought. But you do know all of that is just a story? Real people tend to be more complicated than gods.  
ALPHA: Yeah . . . I know that. Can we end a little early today? I’m actually really tired.  
Deaton: Of course but, before you go I do have a question for you. You're 9 now, and I think you're old enough to grasp it.  
ALPHA: Okay?  
Deaton: Do you feel like an Alpha?  
ALPHA: Huh?  
Deaton: I know that’s how you’ve presented, but by now I know you’ve learned what the different classes are. So my question becomes, do you feel like you are an Alpha?  
ALPHA:  . . . I’m not sure what you mean. I never really think about it like that. I just feel like me and it just so happens that I’m an Alpha?  
Deaton: I see.  
ALPHA: Is that okay? Is that right?  
Deaton: Of course it is.

[TAPE ENDS]

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 12  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

Subject shows promise with Suppressant D3, and while the effects are not long lasting, they are substantial. Upon Alan Deaton’s recommendation Subject has been put into high school classes and is reading on a AP level. In social settings she shows promising Alpha behavior. Leadership qualities, independent thought, charisma and an affinity to Betas.

[TAPE STARTS]

Deaton: You seem to be in a good mood today?  
ALPHA: There’s this girl in class.  
Deaton: Ahhh I see. What do you like about her?  
ALPHA: She’s really smart and she smells really nice.  
Deaton: Do you like the smell of Betas?  
ALPHA: I dunno . . . yeah? They smell kinda like Fresh...like Rain...or like Grass or I dunno.  
Deaton: What about Alphas?  
ALHPA: Their smell stings my nose. Like smokey or spicy. . .  
Deaton: And Omegas?  
ALPHA: There’s only one omega in my class. He doesn’t smell like Alphas much. He won’t let us come near him.  
Deaton: Why do you think that is?  
ALPHA: [Subject shrugs] He lets this one Alpha around him sometimes but I don’t think that one’s scented yet. He acts like he can’t smell anybody. He’s nice but kinda dumb.  
Deaton: Tammy! That’s not nice.  
ALPHA: What! True and nice are two different things.

[TAPE ENDS]

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 12  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

Subject had developed a tolerance for Suppressant D3.

[TAPE STARTS]

Deaton: Today, Tammy I wanna talk about your family.  
ALPHA: Duckling.  
Deaton: I haven’t even asked you anything.  
ALPHA: Duckling.  
Deaton: Tamsin.  
ALPHA: Duck. Ling.  
Deaton: Fine, safe word me if you want but we will have to talk about them eventually Tammy.  
ALPHA: Quack.

[TAPE ENDS]

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 14  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

The following is a recording taken from the video obtained from Subject's personal room while Subject was in heat.

[TAPE STARTS]

ALHPA: [Subject screams]  
Deaton: Tamsin! Tamsin. I’m right here! C’mon now!  
ALPHA: Deaton, this hurts!  
Deaton: I know sweetheart I know!  
ALPHA: It’s worst . . . it’s never felt like this before. I feel like . . . [Subject screams] I can’t . . . I can’t.  
Deaton: Yes, you can! You have to! You can make it! Tammy! Tammy! Look at me!  
ALPHA: No, it hurts. . . . Please make it stop.  
Deaton: Okay. . . . C’mere. Sit on my lap. Like when you were little. That’s it. Now I’m gonna put pressure right here. . . . Better? Squeeze my hand if you need to.  
ALPHA: . . . It’s never hurt this bad.  
Deaton: I know . . . I know . . . they tried something new and it didn’t work. But they're close Tammy. I swear they are.  
ALPHA: I . . . m . . . I’m sorry I . . . Ahhh . . . if I stink. . . . Alphas are supposed to think other Alphas in heat stink.  
Deaton: It’s alright. It's all right, don’t think about that. Hey, are you reading that book I sent you? About the Greek gods?  
ALPHA: [Indicate yes]  
Deaton: All right tell me about them.  
ALPHA: Zeus is a womanizer, Hera is insane and homicidal, Poseidon is a dick, Demeter is boring, Hades is Emo, and Hestia sits by the fire place laughing at them all.  
Deaton: Guess the kids didn’t turn out any better . . .  
ALPHA: Nope . . . and their kids sucked too. But that what you get for sleeping with your sister.  
[Laughter]  
ALPHA: Deaton . . . you smell like vanilla. You’re a Beta right.  
Deaton: Yes, my mate is an Omega.  
ALPHA: You're Bonded? Is that why they trust us to be alone together.  
Deaton: Yes.  
ALPHA: Tell me about your family.  
Deaton: Well . . . um . . . I have two daughters. One of them just bonded.  
ALPHA: That’s nice. . . . Hey Deaton?  
Deaton: Yes.  
ALPHA: How does it feel to knot? Some guys in class where talking about it.  
Deaton: I don’t know. Betas don’t knot. We can have children but only Alphas can do that.  
ALPHA: Oh . . .  
ALPHA: . . . It’s not as bad now.  
Deaton: That’s good I-I . . .  
ALPHA: What? Do I still stink . . . is it that bad?  
Deaton: No it’s . . . you . . . how are you doing that?  
ALPHA: Doing what?  
Deaton: I . . . I have to . . . I have to go . . .  
ALPHA: But Deaton I-  
Deaton: No . . . get . . . get away from me!  
[Deaton runs from room]

[TAPE ENDS]

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 14  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

There has been a change in Subject's status. Reports say that after this most recent heat Subject's scent switched from Alpha to Omega. Test determined that the subject was still biologically Alpha. After much observation it is still unclear the events that happen. Due to the improbability of an actual hormonal scent signature manipulation, Alan Deaton has terminated his psychoanalysis. Even though Subject is 14 and underage, we have no choice but to induce artificial heat in order to further explore this development. Until the matter is solved any and all contact with people must be limited and well monitored.


	2. Testing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because of recent deveploments with in the biological make up fo the subject, Project 'She-Wolf' has had to relaunch it's trigectory, and find a more proactive approch.

TEST 1

Hunter McCullen: Caucasian Male: 23: Unbonded: Alpha

The room is white, and well-lit with a long mirror window to the far left side and cameras in every corner. They had told her to wait for further instructions, so all she can do now is hope they won’t take long so she can go back to her room and roll into a ball and wait out the pain. Her heat is coming on. Her stomach is getting tight. Her head is starting to fog over. Scents are getting stronger. Most of the scientists on staff are Betas, one is an Omega, but they all wear masks now whenever they are around her. When she's in Heat, they treat her like she's a vat of toxic chemicals.

It isn’t her fault this time. This Heat doesn’t feel right, it came on too strong, too fast. They had given her something.

She looks around the white room. It's so blank and colorless it makes her eyes hurt a little. There's a table with two chairs on either side sitting in the middle of the room. She decides to sit.

She lays her face on the cool surface of the table and tries not to focus on the ever tightening vice in her body. Everything aches. It's a full 10 minutes before someone enters the room. He's tall with blond hair and a big hoodie. He also has a black book bag strapped to his back.

“My name's Hunter. I’m supposed to be tutoring you on World History?”

Her ears perk up. She hasn’t been able to take classes in months. Yes, it hurts; yes, she’s dizzy, but she wants to learn. Maybe if she’s good enough, smart enough, Deaton will come back.

“Oh . . . um I’m Tamsin.” She smiles and stands, offering her hand. He takes it. She shakes his hand firm and solid, like she has learned she has to. Not many people take a 13-year-old seriously. She hates not being taken seriously. “You don’t know how happy I am that you’re here. I haven’t had a lesson in months.”

He seems surprised, but pleasantly surprised.

“Alright then what do you say we get started?” His smile is genuine. He comes to sit down across from her. He smells like fabic softener, pizza, and something smokey and spicy. He’s an ALPHA, a young one. That should worry her. She’s pre-Heat, and this one is coming on faster than normal.

“Where did you leave off?” He starts pulling out his laptop and a few huge books.

“Holocaust.” She sits across from him. Maybe having a table between them will help. Maybe she can hold it off for a bit.

“Really? You're kinda young for that aren’t you?”

“I’m a fast study.”

He's a new face; she’s never seen him around before. He isn’t a Doctor or an orderly. He seems normal. No mask. No tranqs. No syringes.

“So we got the Axis and the Allies.” He swivels the book around to her and leans in. He sniffs. She tenses immediately.

“You smell really good.” He smiles.

“I’m sorry, I’m in heat. I just . . . I kinda.”

“Oh . . .” He shifts. There’s a spike of arousal in his scent. “I just didn’t expect it, you’re so young.”

“Yeah.” She slides a little farther away and looks down at the book.

“So . . . what where we talking about?”

“Allies and Axis.” She swallows hard. The pain is coming on stronger. She’s reacting to his scent. He shifts a little closer to her. 

“Right, right. . . . Wow. . . . You seem pretty young to be scenting this strong.”

“Yeah I guess.” She tries to keep her head down in the pages of the book, but she can feel him get up. Move around her. His hands grab the back of her seat. She fidgets a little. His scent is pungent and abrasive now. It almost chokes her.

“God you smell really good. Kinda like, walnuts . . . Are you an Omega?”

“No! I’m an Alpha!” She whips around to face him because something feral and reactive is pushing her to challenge him. He laughs at her. Of course he does.

“Females can't be Alphas. But I get it, you're feisty, you like a fight. Omegas are usually seen as weaker, more submissive.” He’s pressing into her now, pinning her between his body and the table. She never likes to be touched when she's in heat. Everything is always extra sensitive. “Omegas only make up like 10% of the population. They're rare, chased after. Being an Omega doubles your chance of mating with a nice strong Alpha, being filled with his babies.”

“I’m not an Omega.” She will not look away; she will not back down. She will not be called anything less than what she is. Her body is flushed and her finger tips buzz with adrenaline.

“I get it. Maybe you don’t want some beef-cake's babies.” His eyes are dark, predatory almost. He pulls out her chair and turns it to him in one swift move. “Maybe you want someone sensitive, someone smart. Like me.”

Heat pricks up in her stomach. She feels slick between her legs, the fogginess is coming in and out but she can focus just enough on his face, his words.

“I-I don’t want to.”

His scent is overbearing. It’s burning her eyes, and nose, and she can’t understand why he will not listen.

“Oh, you only think you don’t cause you’re so young, but I promise once you feel my knot, you’ll love it.” He starts to lean in even closer and every muscle in her body recoils. “I’ll be so gentle with you. Not like those other knot-heads. I know what it’s like to be an Omega. I read, I know what-"

“Mr. McCullen?” A voice comes over the speaker. “Step away from the child and leave the room.” For a moment he didn’t move, she almost thinks he’ll ignore the voice. One should never ignore the voice, because the voice has tranquilizer darts and tasers. The door behind them opens and two orderlies in masks come in with sticks.

They clear Hunter out, but they leave his books. It’s a reward. They never do anything on accident, not when it comes to her. She takes the books and is escorted back to her room. She knows better than to ask questions. They won’t tell her anything. They’ve given up on suppressants. They haven't force any on her in a while now. So she’s left in little box they gave her for a room. They leave her alone, just her and her heat, the rising tightness in her belly, the emptiness, the vibrating adrenaline in her limbs that her body has no where to place. She places that book on her shelf with the others.

That night the pain is almost too much. Her heat is in full swing. She feels empty and like she might burst all at the same time. The only thing she can do is clench her teeth and try to breathe through it. Artificial Heats only last for 3 days, not a whole week and a half like her normal ones, so that’s a good thing. No one bothers her for a while. By the time the tremors hit she is still in a ball, fist clenched so tight her nails pierce her skin and the blood trickles down her forearm.

‘You have to be strong’ she repeats again and again.

* * *

 

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 14  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

With Project ‘SHEWOLF’ now underway, the need to document the physical as well as emotional status of ALPHA is imperative. Due to the termination of Alan Deaton, we have had to make due with interns. Other replacement specialist have been called to do basic cognitive check-up works with the ALPHA.

* * *

 

[TAPE STARTS]

Intern: Says here you're 14?

ALPHA: [ALPHA DOES NOT RESPOND]

Intern: Do you have a name besides ALPHA?

ALPHA: [ALPHA DOES NOT RESPOND]

Intern: Are you ever gonna talk to me?

ALPHA: [ALPHA DOES NOT RESPOND]

Intern: Right. It says you’ve been here since you were 10.

ALPHA: 6.

Intern: I’m sorry?

ALPHA: I’ve been here since I was 6.

Intern: Wow . . . and you’ve been taking college level classes since 10?

ALPHA: They don’t let me out for classes anymore.

Intern: They don’t?

ALPHA: I’d like to get back to my room I only have a few minute till my test.

Intern: Wait you just said-

ALPHA: I’m not stupid. I know you watch me through that glass. I know they see what happens.

Intern: Interns aren't allowed in the viewing room. . . . Um . . . what’s that mark on your hand?

ALPHA: Duckling.

Intern: What’s that?

ALPHA: [ALPHA DOES NOT RESPOND]

Intern: Is that a code word that I don’t know. I’m new.

ALPHA: [ALPHA DOES NOT RESPOND]

Intern: Okay.

ALPHA: [ALPHA LEAVES THE ROOM]

[TAPE ENDS]

* * *

 

Intern Status Report

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 15  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

ALPHA displays signs of abuse, depression, and anger management issues. She also has open cuts in the palm of her hand that I believe to be self-inflicted.

* * *

 

TEST 23

Grant Mason: Caucasian Male: 43: Bonded: Alpha

She had sized him up the moment he walked in. Alpha, in heat, bonded. Bonded ones were the worst. They usually started off talking so sweetly to her, coaxing her, trying to tell her they knew best. They also turned on her the hardest.

“If you didn’t want this to happen you should have worn Blockers or something instead of walking around here smelling all sweet and gentle like some little Rutt-slut,” he growls in her ear. She has learned just take it, not to challenge them when they call her an Omega, not to fight them when they slam her to the ground. It just gets them excited. “My knot is nice and big for you baby. I know you want it. You’re my good girl.”

Her stomach lurches and she can taste the bile in the back of her throat. She hates this. The way they all talk to her like they are the greatest gift she’ll ever get, like she doesn’t know her own body like they do. What she hates most about it is that they’re right. She can feel the wet slickness between her legs. She can feel a heat building up in her core, something empty and full at the same time.

She’s not an animal. She should have the will power to stop herself, to control herself, but she can’t. Her scent is thick and heavy with arousal, but that’s not what _this_ is. _This_ is hate. _Th_ _is_ is disgust. They are not the same thing. She wants to punch him in the face cognitively, but everything is blurry. The Artificial Heats they’ve been giving her have gotten more potent. The scientists are getting better at their job. But that’s fine, the fog makes it pass quicker, makes her feel like she’s not really there, like she can disappear until it’s all over.

Then she feels him shove his hands into her pants. They have never let it get this far. They have never let _them_ touch her down there. He rubs meaty fingers against the fabric of her panties. She knows they are soaked through. She can feel the slickness of the thin layer of cotton that separates his fingers from her vagina.

“That’s my girl. I’ll make it so good for you. Make you so full. You wanna be full don’t you?” His mouth is on her neck and his fingers are pushing their way into her. Her eyes stare directly at the mirror glass window. He reaches into his pants and pulls out his angry engorged dick. She is hit by the terrible realization that they not going to stop him. They can see her. She knows they can see her. But they’re not going to save her this time.They’re going to let him fuck her right there on that cold hard floor. Finally, the heat in her stomach explodes.

“No! Get off you old sack of shit!” She pushes his face away from her.

“Be nice now.” He growls and grabs her wrist. She keeps fighting, keeps telling herself she doesn’t want this, keeps screaming louder and louder, flailing wildly even through the fog. Her nails catch his face. He stumbles back.

“You little nigger bitch!” He lunges at her. Her body pulls her into action before she even gets the chance to register it. She ducks down and thrust her fist forward. He stops and grunts. He’s on the floor next to her holding his balls, rolling back and forth.

She scoots away from him until her back hits the wall. He sounds angry and in pain. He’s not after her anymore. He’s down, groaning and helpless.

As she watches him something begins to cut through the fog, to clear out the chemicals in her brain. Something hot and sharp but it’s not Heat, no this . . . this is anger.

She edges around him as he continues to groan. She makes her way to the table and chairs. She grabs the back of the chair closest to her. She pulls it up above her head and then swings down.

“I. Said. No!” She keeps pounding him, bringing the chair down on his body over and over again. Until he’s not moving anymore. Until she sees blood leaking onto the gleaming white floor. Until her eyes are clouded with tears. Until her throat is sore from screaming. Until the hate and anger has spread out to every inch of her. Until she feels the sting of a tranquilizer in her thigh.

Her legs give out first. Her knees slam again the tile floor. She flops over. Her face is pressed into the ground. The orderlies come in. She counts 5 sets of big black boots rushing to the bloodied broken man on the floor before blackness takes over.

When she wakes up she's in another room, handcuffed to a hospital bed. There is a murmurer of doctors in lab coats, monitors, computer screen with bleeping lines, needles stuck into her arms as if she were a pincushion. She still feels empty, still aches, but the pain is less. It’s not threatening to tear her open and moreover . . . it's bearable.

* * *

 

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 16  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

ALPHA has become violent during Heats, both artificial and natural. ALPHA shows an increased propensity to aggressive behavior, not only towards the test partners but also with orderlies and doctors. The injuries caused by ALPHA are extensive and savage. Sedation has been needed during all events in order to stop ALPHA. Because of the constant use potency, the dosage has been raised as well. It seems worth noting that the project has had to continue with dwindling staff and research team. Due to the copious financial burden of Project SHEWOLF the program will have to look to a private benefactor.


	3. New Partner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lab receives a new benefactor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tirggers: Slut shaming

As stated in the previous lab report, due to the copious financial burden of project SHEWOLF, the program has looked to a private benefactor. Because of the sensitivity of the work, we must be selective of who we choose. Director Deucalion and I have found a patron and arranged for him to view the subject during a test.

* * *

The silence after the viewing is something Deucalion foresaw. When he first ventured into the lab after becoming dissatisfied with wordy experiment reports, he had had a similar reaction. After that initial visit, however, he sated himself with the reports. This would be his 3rd time actually seeing the Alpha at all. She’d grown.

“So, Mr. Hale was it?” Dr. Argent breaks the silence. He is an old man, balding with white wisps of hair and blotchy skin. He seems like he could have been someone grandfather once, old and sweet and jolly, but that was before the cancer settled in his body. This is what Alphas can become, old and sick, their bodies giving up on every reason to continue living after their mates die. It was pure stubborn nerve that kept this man together.

Mr. Hale sits in silent contemplation, awe or maybe disgust on his face. Deucalion had done his best to prepare the other man for what he was about to see. The Alpha had bitten the hand of the test volunteer and slammed his head against the floor until there was blood. It took 3 tranquilizers to get her to go down. “What do you think of our little project?”

Mr. Hale stares ahead for a moment. Deucalion suspects they may have lost him. He dreads the numbers he was gonna have to write down to pay for this silence. Between the volunteer's hospital bills and confidentiality compensation, they were quickly heading into debt.

Which is why they needed financial support, and Mr. Hale was in possession of a large amount of money that he seemed willing to share.

“Do all the ‘tests’ end this way?” he asks. Deucalion can't quite read his tone yet.

“Every week.” The doctor replies frankly.

“You test her every week? And what is the purpose of these . . . test?” Mr. Hale gets up from his chair and straightens his Armani suit. “I mean specifically.”

“Well, it began with a wish to just observe her bodies chemical reaction to Alpha stimulus, but now that we’ve thoroughly documented that, we would like to take it to the next level and study that reaction. There are a few question as to her physiological restriction that we hope to address if-"

“You want to see if she can knott.” Mr. Hale replies, also frankly.

“To put it plainly.” Deucalion shifts slightly. Another silence settles on the company.

“We don’t take this job lightly.” The doctor stands and straightens his glasses. He coughs into a cloth. “Everything we are doing here is-“

“For science. Or maybe you were going to say ‘for the greater good?” There is a lightness to Mr. Hale's tone, an amusement that Deucalion doesn’t really know what to do with. “I don’t really care what you tell yourself. The question is, Gentleman, will I get the biological breakthrough I’ve been promised?”

Deucalion glances at the doctor, who boldly lets a smile crack his face. It’s the smile he first had when they started all this. Eager, genuine, and terrifying.

“Mr. Hale I can assure it to you.”

"Good.” Hale reaches out his hand to them both and they shake. “I’ll have the money in your accounts by Monday. And my lawyer should be by with the paperwork very soon.” They leave the viewing room and Deucalion can’t help but feel pleased with himself. He’s done trying to weigh out the moral ramifications of this. As Mr. Hale said, he can say it’s for science or even for the greater good. It doesn’t matter now that he’s got his funding. “A question before I go, Gentleman.” Hale stops at the door of Deucalion’s office. “What happened when you introduced her to an Omega?” The doctor and Deucalion both trip over the question. “I’m assuming you have tried her with Omegas? I mean you couldn't have been repeating the same experiment over and over with just Alpha’s expecting different results? That's the definition of insanity.”

Deucalion is dumbfounded. He’d never thought to ask the good doctor about the Omega test volunteers, mostly because there had never been any.

“Why do you suggest it?” The doctor’s voice has a sharp edge to it. He can’t place it, but it’s surprising.

“Well, she is, after all, an Alpha.”

* * *

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 16  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

[TAPE STARTS]

Inter: Hi.

ALPHA: [DOES NOT RESPOND]

Intern: Yeah well my days been ehh too. That fucker Larry from the third wing keeps trying to tell me how to do my job. Like dude, shut the fuck up. You're 56 and my teeth are brighter than your entire future, I think I’m okay.

ALPHA: [DOES NOT RESPOND]

Intern: Also my buddy is getting married, finally! They’ve been dating since, like, high school. Scott's that stay-with-you-forever type. Like, the only real reason him and his first girlfriend aren’t together anymore is cause she died. Me? I dunno. Not sure the married life is for me. I mean, I am basically bonded but like, I date, he dates, we're good.

ALPHA: [DOES NOT RESPOND]

Intern: And no, I don’t want kids. Like honestly, Scott and Kira are gonna have enough for me. I can settle with being Uncle-

ALPHA: You really don’t get the silent treatment do you?

Intern: No, not really. See, years of borderline co-dependent relationships, unbreakable pack mentality, and life or death situations have made it so I have zero personal boundaries.

ALPHA: Fine . . . You're here to evaluate my mental state, trying to see if I feel out of place in my body? That’s what they want anyway. They want me to tell them that I’m really a boy, so they can slap ‘fixed’ on my case file, huh?

Intern: Are you broken?

ALPHA: No!

Intern: Then why would I try and fix you? Well, now that that’s cleared up, I actually do have a question for you.

ALPHA: No promise I’ll answer.

Intern: So . . . duckling?

[SOUNDS OF LAUGHTHER]

* * *

Test 67

Lucas Gomez : Hispanic : Male :18 : Omega : Unbonded

“Please just . . . stay over there . . .” She’s hunched over in a corner, trembling with pain. This is new,;this is unexpected. They took her early this morning, stuck the needles in her. She had watched as the blue liquid filled the tubes and flowed into her arm where the needle had been burrowed under her skin. She felt the punch as the heat took hold, but this time, they didn’t just throw her in the room like normal, they sent her back into her bedroom. They let the pain settle in, let the emptiness being to gape and rip into her. At first, she thought maybe it was a punishment, a last-ditch effort to get her so desperate to mate, that she wouldn’t deform this latest test subject.

“Please, just let me help you . . . I just . . .” He’s still trying to get to her, trying to help. This one is young, the youngest she’s ever been given. Slender arms and legs and hips, warm maple eyes, and thick lashes. He was already there when she was brought in, jittery like a small mouse in an open field.

He smells sweet and earthy, like walnuts or almonds. An Omega. “Are you okay? I . . . umm . . . I . . .” She knows her scent is musky and sharp and thick. She knows it won’t be long; she won’t last long. She has to put distance between them, an obstacle, but all she has at the moment is a flimsy table and some busted chairs.

“Please, just stay over there . . . I don’t wanna hurt you.” She needs to get out of the room. She’s an Alpha, no matter how much they poke at her and throw her into this damned box. She is an Alpha. She’s done her own research, her own reading, and observations; she knows what Alphas are capable of. She’s seen men morph into monsters. Every instinct in her is telling her that he is made for her, that he is a prize for her to capture, that his body belongs to her hands. That's how it is when you're an Alpha, every instinct screaming at you to dominate, to take, to claim and have and defend.

She will not forgive the others, though. The ones that force themselves on her. The ones that wouldn't take no for an answer. There is no excuse for what they tried to do to her. Just like she won’t forgive herself if she hurts this one. She slides herself up the wall and over to the mirror. He tries to get closer. “No,” she bellows. “Back. I said, st-ay back!” She hammers her fist on the reflective surface. “Let me out! Please, you can't do this!” She bangs on the surface of the mirror harder and harder until it splinters under her fist. “Please, don’t let me do this! Please!”

“Hey, stop . . . stop.” He rushes over to her, leaps over the table and grabs her wrist to stop her. His touch is like electricity, a jolt to her entire body. He’s pressed against her now. Chest to back. Like this, she can feel his breath against her neck, his heartbeat, the muscle in his chest. He’s taller than she originally guessed, but he still smells like almonds, still smells like something that could break her. It’s stronger now. He’s more turned on. Her chemicals have gotten to him, telling his body to get ready for her. Omega's have highly reactive heat cycles. If an Omega is surrounded by another Omega or Beta that is in Heat, it will pick start there own. Usually the prosses takes a few days. But she's knows her body, what it can do. She knwknowsws his strong her chemicals are her scent is. To be honest this was over the moment she stepped into the room 

“I’m sorry. You were hurting yourself and I . . . My name is Lucas. What’s yours?”

She’s not strong enough to move away, to push him off. She's barely strong enough to keep her hands to herself. But she's doing it. Her palms pressed firmly against the mirror, cheek smushed against the cool of the smoothness. Deep breaths fogging the rflecing surface.

“T-they call me Alpha.”

“Alpha.” He smiles at her, soft and understanding. “You smell . . .” He’s sniffing her shoulder, her hair, putting his nose in the dark kinks and coils. She leans into it just a little. She gets a whiff of his scent mingling with hers. The smell of her on him might be even more gratifying than just his scent alone. “I’ve never meet a girl Alpha."

“I’m the only one.” She turns to him. She has lost. She actually lost the moment she had walked into the room. She was biologically made to lose this fight. She is just an animal, after all, just a caged dog that they taught how to read and write. An Alpha. “I . . . I don’t want to hurt you . . . But I won’t be able to-"

“The only one . . . like Tigger.” He jokes, but it’s halfhearted; it falls through. His focus is on her lips. He licks his lips and it’s the most distracting thing she’s seen him do yet.

“Who?” She just wants to smell more of him, she needs to smell more of him. She needs to hold on; she needs to stay still; she needs to . . .

His lips are on hers, soft and pliant, like he waiting on her to kiss back, to take the lead. So, she does. She’s never done this before, but, then again, she’s always been a quick learner. It doesn’t take long to master this sweet gesture, enough for him to moan in her mouth just so. The kiss becomes something else, more something sloppy and wet and explosive. The taste of it lights every synapse on fire.

It doesn’t take long for them to be on the floor, kissing overeager and wild. It’s all instinct and sensation and starved grasping. Dull nails are biting into her back through the thin cotton shirt. He’s writhing under her and it is such a glorious sight, lust blown eyes peeking at her from under thick heavy eyelashes. It unlocks something. Her hands are clumsy but they make quick work of the button and zipper of his pants. When she curls her finger around him, he’s already hard, pulsing, and angry in her hands. He groans like it’s all he could ever want.

“Do it, please. Hazlo.” His voice sounds strained and desperate and so lovely. She squeezes and strokes him, gentle, unsure. But then he moans and bucks up into her hand, and she’s pretty sure nothing she’s ever done has ever been more perfect. She wants it; she wants him. She so wet, she’s dripping down her leg. It’s dizzying how wonderful they smell; their scents fill the room unapologetically. She strokes him, faster, firmer; he’s biting his lip and arching under her so beautifully. His grip has moved down to her thighs, her ass. He’s squeezing and tugging and making the most pathetic noises. “Papi please . . . .” His voice is desprete and strained, his lips are pink and kids bruised. Nothing has ever sounded so right good to her ears.He’s nipping at her shoulders, play-bitting; she’s read about it. The instinct to bite and bond when hormones are flying everywhere. It happens to her age group, only when they’re still unbonded. It’s dangerous, flirting with a bonding bite; you can’t just say 'Oops' and forget about it. She should say something; she should stop them. “Por favor . . . Alpha . . .” He’s so thick and heavy in her hands, hot and veiny and pulsing.

“No . . .” It slips out before she can actually justify it in her head. She can’t; she doesn’t know what might happen. She can hardly control herself as is; if they keep going, she’ll lose control completely. She can’t let that happen. Not while they're watching. She barely has any say in what they do to her in here as is. She won’t give in like this. She won’t let them make her into animal porn for the sake of whatever they are trying to accomplish here.

“Please . . . something . . . anything . . . Please.” Lucas’s voice sounds closer to pain than pleasure now. She can’t just leave him like this. If she was a stronger person maybe she could get up and walk away leave him writhing there on the floor, but she’s not. So, she presses her face into his neck; she scents him. She puts a little more pressure into her grip and strokes him faster.

“You smell so good. So sweet.” She scrapes her teeth across his shoulder and he shudders. “I wish I could knott you. I wish I could knott you so hard but I can’t. This is all I can do for you.” He’s trembling now, he’s falling apart and it exquisite. Lips, pink and kissed bruised, part in a silent moan. Eyebrows drawn together, eyes glassy and unfocused, toasted cheeks flush with pink. “Do it. I wanna see it.”

He cums on command. His body stiffens, and then melts. His eyes roll to the back in his head, and he whimpers. His cum shoots out onto his shirt and then dribbles hot onto her hand. They’re both panting, but he’s spent, drunk on reward chemicals; blissed out.

He cranes his neck up and they kiss. Slow and sated. The smell of cum and sex are dank and heavy, and it’s making her wetter, making it even harder to think straight.

“I’ve never cum that hard before,” he says in a half hoarse voice, still a little winded. He’s still stunning, even as he comes back to himself. He still has her scent on him, like he’s hers. She has never wanted to lay claim to another person before but the need to do so is painfully present. Just one move, just one bite, that’s all. She pulls away and climbs off of him, stumbling a little on her feet.

“I won’t . . . I won’t do it.” She yells into the room, knowing the mics will catch it. She prays for the dart guns, for the orderlies, for something.

“Did I do . . . something wrong?” He looks so scared. Horrified by the fact the he might have displeased her in some way. “It’s just you didn’t . . . um . . .” He would let her; he’s drunk on afterglow and the scent of her Heat still. He would let her do it. She gags on the thought. She’s disgusted with herself. The fact that she couldn't control it, the idea that she is still no better than an animal.

“No . . . it’s not you.” The pain is coming back into focus in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes dart around the room. She needs a way out. Her pulse is drumming in her ear. Her body is literally pulling her to him. She won’t knot him. She won’t bond with him. Not like this. Not in this cage. Then she sees it, a long shard of glass on the floor under the mirror, from before when it shattered. She grabs it. It’s no longer than her finger, but it's thick, heavy.

“What are you doing?” Lucas’s face looks terrified like he knows what’s coming next. She plunges the shard into her wrist. No time for precision or accuracy. She balls her fist and just yanks it down all the way to the joint of her elbow. Blood explodes from the rip, oozing onto the white tile below her. Lucas screams. He bangs on the door, begging someone to come help. She pulls the shard out and does the other arm. Not as deep but just as long, just as bloody. The door bursts open with doctors and orderlies. They're yelling, panicked.

Get her to the E.R.

Get him outta here!

After a while, she just closes her eyes. Her vision was going black anyway. She’s lifted on to something. She’s floating, spaced out, suspended in-between moments. Soon everything goes numb, cold. She tries to count her heartbeats but the wait between them is getting longer. It makes it harder to stay awake. Sleep doesn’t seem like a bad idea.

* * *

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 16  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

Due to the unexpected results of last week's test, ALPHA has been hospitalized. After 3 days of unconsciousness, she has regained awareness and shows a rapid rate of improvement. However, her mental state is still a subject the requires intensive review. Because of this Dr. Argent has taken over her sessions.

* * *

SUBJECT: A1290  
Age: 16  
Class: ALPHA  
Gender: Female

[TAPE STARTS]

ARGENT: So, my dear, how are you feeling today?

ALPHA: [DOES NOT RESPOND]

ARGENT: You gave us quite a scare for a while there.

ALPHA: [DOES NOT RESPOND]

ARGENT: I was worried about you.

ALPHA: I’ll do it again.

ARGENT: Excuse me?

ALPHA: I said, I will do it again. If you put me in that room with someone else like that I will.

ARGENT: Do you have something against Omegas?

ALPHA: You lied to him. You didn’t tell him why he was in there. He's was scared and-

ARGENT: And you took advantage of him.

ALPHA: No . . . I . . .

ARGENT: You pinned him to the floor and rutted with him like a little animal. I watched you. You growled and scented and rutted just like every other Alpha would have with a virgin Omega under them.

ALPHA: . . . Is . . . Is he okay?

ARGENT: I was sent here to evaluate your mental state, but I think I’ll take this moment to explain to you what you're doing here. No one’s done that for you in a long time.

ALPHA: I know why I’m here. I’m your lab rat, the only one of my kind.

ARGENT: Yes, but I don’t think you grasp how unique you are. Besides being a She-Alpha, you, my dear, are actually the ultimate Alpha. Not only do you go through intense heats, which is something no male Alpha can do, but you can manipulate yourself to allure any suitor within your area to a point of arousal. That is markedly impressive. All those Alphas we stuck you with were good men, husbands and fathers and sons. Good Alphas with good reputations. You turned them into what they were. The reason they had such an extreme reaction was because of you.

ALPHA: I told them to stop.

ARGENT: But you didn’t stop your scent, now did you? To them, it seemed like you wanted it. Now, I know you might think that I’m being unfair, keeping you here and all, but, my dear, this is all for the best. I mean, the men we brought to you were strong, good-natured, kind men, and you turned them into animals. Imagine what you’ll do to your average Joe.

ALPHA: [DOES NOT RESPOND]

ARGENT: Now, in here I can make sure that doesn’t happen. I can protect you. Now, once you’re feeling better, we’ll let you go back to your room and your books. I’ll even give you a week of no tests, just so you relax a bit. It’s been a big week for you. Hasn’t it, my dear?

[TAPE ENDS]


	4. Released

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goddamn Peter! It took you long enough!

“What do you mean she tore out her stitches?” Mr. Hale had dropped by for a surprise visit not even a week after the checks had hit their accounts. He warned them that he was a more hands on type of partner. Deucalion really didn’t mind that as much as the fact that he decided to come this week.

“It seems that there was a bit of an accident, last week and she had to get hospital treatment, we halted research so she could heal but she must have gotten confused or-”

“By 'accident' are you referring to her slashing her wrist in attempts to end her life." Peter askes dryly. 

The three men sat in the office, with only the ceiling fan moving between them. Mr. Hale had brought a friend a young man in a sharply dressed suit. He's handsome and has a smirk on his mouth the makes Deucalion uncomfortable but he isn’t sure why.

“I make it my business to stay very informed with my investments and their status. I’m not rich because I’m so pretty.” Mr. Hale smiles. “Well, what do we intend to do about this turn of events. She’s clearly suicidal and she’s far too much of an investment to lose.”

“Ummm . . . Dr. Agrent has been looking at some sedatives, that will still allow her body to be receptive to intercourse while unconscious.“

“You can’t do that.” A flash of anger flares in Mr. Hales voice, his teeth clench, and his eyes go sharp. The young man behind him simple shifts his eyes in somewhat of a warning. “Her files say that she’s never responded well to any pain sedatives in the past. She would still feel the Heats and the action, and we can only assume she would eventually build a tolerance for it.”

“Yes, well, science is all about trial and error.” Deucalion smiles. Mr. Hale smiles back, tightlipped and murderous.

“Yes, well, I’m afraid I’ll have to disagree with you Deucalion. I think we should take this project in a different direction.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yes, I will be taking Alpha from you care and putting her into a private residential facility. I’ll have my own doctors treating and observing her, but we will be using this lab for blood tests and the rest.”

“I-I’m sorry Mr. Hale . . . I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

Mr. Hale folds his hands together in his lap and glances toward the young man in the suit next to him. The smirk he’s been sporting splits into a full blown grin.

“My name is Theo Raeken. I’m Mr. Hale´s Lawyer. I drew up the paper that you so eagerly signed when Mr. Hale agreed to partner with your company. The agreement granted us full access to all files pertaining to the company itself. You remember this?”

Deucalion nods.

“I did a little research and I found that 11 years ago the company decided to sponsor a very sick little girl only referred to as 'Girl Blue'. She was given up by her parents, an Ophelia and Jonathan Boyd, after her first heat at 5 left her hospitalized. Am I correct in assuming that ‘Girl Blue’ is the subject?”

Deucalion’s look keeps shifting from a smug Mr. Hale to an almost predatory Theo, and he’s very quickly beginning to feel like he’s sinking in quicksand.

“I’m not-"

"'Yes' or 'No', Mr. Deucalion,” Theo cuts him off. Deucalion’s lips tighten and he nods. “But the company did not adopt her, as my records show, and therefore only have a claim over her if they remain the sole sponsor, and must, therefore, relinquish that claim if another sponsor or perspective family comes forth. Mr. Hale having now financed 59% of this project in which all proceeds go directly toward Alpha's well-being and health, is now considered a sponsor, and, therefore, has claim to her that you must respect. If not, all of those files that you have on the education and well-being of ‘Girl Blue’ will have found their way to a certain high-ranking official.”

“I do believe the sheriff in this area goes by Parish,” Mr. Hale adds calmly.

Raeken tosses a very large manilla folder on Deucalion’s desk, filled with snapshots of a very young, very cut open, little black girl. He can’t glance at them for too long. There are tubes running in and out of her body and her eyes are dead and staring at him like a frog on a high school dissection table. She can’t be more than 6 or 7. He’d done his best to bury these pictures as far back in the dark corners of the world as he could. His stomach lurches just a bit and he actually has to make an effort to not let it show.Mr. Hale stands and buttons his blazer

“You’ve kept a little girl of extraordinary birth locked up for 10 years in an inhuman cell void of human interaction. You’ve pumped her with chemicals, and had Alphas force themselves on her. Then you became surprised when she turned violent. You became surprised when she took the only bit of control she still had and exercised it. And you call yourselves men of science.” He turns to leave. “I will still provide you with blood work, to be handled by a team that I will pick, and I will keep you informed of her progress.” With that, he leaves the room.

The pictures are still on Deucalion's desk. A motherless, fatherless child. A lifeless child. A futureless child. If he was being honest with himself, he's relieved. He's more than relieved; he feels almost exonerated. He’s not sure when it got to this point, not sure when a simple 2-year project in the name of science and discovery, became 10 year’s worth of torture. He’s not sure when he lost control of it all. He’s just not sure.

* * *

There’s an orderly at the door, arms crossed, staring at her in his black uniform. They won’t let her be alone anymore. Not since she tried the second time. She fidgets and the iron cuff on her wrist clank against her bed railing. She stares at the ceiling of the room, there is so much white in this place she might go blind.

White is the lack of color.

Lack of substance.

Lack of noise.

Empty.

Empty rooms leave so much room for thought. Thoughts like maybe Dr. Argent is right. They never seemed like monsters until her. They didn’t have claws and teeth. They didn’t leave her bloodied and beaten on the floor. You cage a Beast to protect the people. She was a beast, an animal, some random anomaly of genetics left over and not fully thought through. Everything about her life was just a series of caged days. Her birth was a sentence to a cage of blood and bone and chemicals that she would never escape. A Tartarus of flesh for her and her thoughts.

When the door opens, she expects Dr. Argent. She’s been expecting him for a few days now. She knows he’ll be upset about her trying to kill herself again. She’s his life’s work. She’s much too valuable to be uncontrolled.

“Tamsin Boyd.”

The sound of her name is foreign and strange. She doesn’t know the voice. She opens her eyes and glances at the door. The orderly has left, and has been replaced by a man in a suit. He’s too old to be an intern. His neck is thick and his jaw is defined and angled. He has a paper bag in his hand. “My name it Peter Hale.” He takes a few steps close to her bed.

“Is this a test?” Her voice comes out small and cracked.

“No.” 

She almost doesn’t believe him. She’s been waiting for them to send someone to her now that she’s chained and helpless. “There will be no more tests for you.”

“What?”

“There will be no more tests. Not for you, not ever.” His words a crisp and precise as if he’s reciting a poem. “And if you so choose, there will be no more labs for you either.” He looked back towards the door. She didn’t even notice the other man come in. He’s younger, also in a suit with a briefcase. He comes over to the hospital bed and removes her handcuffs with the keys. She looks confused as she rubbed her wrist where the metal cut into the skin.

“What do you mean?”

“Tamsin Boyd. I’m taking you away from here.” His voice is even, his eye are soft and sure like he actually believes what his saying. She doesn't mean to look skeptical. Or maybe she does. She’s never seen this man before and she doubts that Dr. Argent would just let someone read up on what they’ve been doing to her. “There’s an intern who took a liking to you. Wanted me to get you out.”

“You're lying.” She scoffs. In 10 years no intern has so much as given her a second glance. She was a lab rat to them. First rule of working at a lab. Don’t get attached to the animals.

“Trust me, if I lie to you, you won’t know it." She's not sure how she feels about that. As he says this, a group of orderlies comes in with two bags and places them on the floor next to the door. There are filled with books, her books. The man places the bag in his hand on the bed next to her. She grabs it and peers in. Clothes, with color, no blinding white or disgusting tan. Jeans and a shirt, a red one. She looks back up to the man. He has a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey so to the people reading this. Thanks! I know these are taking forever to be put up, but I'm adulting....more like floundering, but I'm trying so just stay with me. Also, props to my Beta because I'm awful.


End file.
